<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Bar Fights and Love by wonderlandiscrumbling</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23419441">Bar Fights and Love</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/wonderlandiscrumbling/pseuds/wonderlandiscrumbling'>wonderlandiscrumbling</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Toxic Punk Boys [6]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Fright Night (2011), Laws of Attraction (2004)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Aftercare, Bar fights, Fights, Kissing, M/M, Mentions of Blood, Mentions of alcohol, brief mentions of homophobia, mentions of drug use, violence associated with fights at rock shows</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 09:20:25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,356</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23419441</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/wonderlandiscrumbling/pseuds/wonderlandiscrumbling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter could see that fight happening a mile away, it doesn't leave him any less worried though.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Thorne Jamison/Peter Vincent</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Toxic Punk Boys [6]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1664806</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Bar Fights and Love</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Peter had known it was going to happen before it did. The second that the drunken moron who stood closest to the small stage in the bar Thorne’s band was playing in had called him a slur, Peter knew that shit would hit the fan, it didn’t help when a second afterwards the shaved head douche with the septum piercing hurled a beer bottle at Thorne’s head. It made contact, dug a cut into his forehead, blood rolling down his face, barely a second later Thorne had grabbed the mic stand and lunged at him, attempted to bash the stand down on his head, but the man grabbed it throwing it and Thorne to the ground. Chaos erupted after that, it became a clash between drunk high morons and Thorne’s fed up bandmates who could at this point care less if their singer got himself killed. Peter on the other hand had the worst habit of caring that seemed to come from a place of love. He shoved his way through the small crowd of thrashing bodies, shoved a guy about his age with purple dyed hair knocking him into a man with long greasy hair who proceeded to punch him in the chest. Finally when Peter reached Thorne he found him standing, hauling back and kicking the man who assaulted him in the mouth, a tooth flew out of his mouth, head colliding back with the tiled floor. Thorne’s face was a bloodied mess, his dark hair matted to his forehead, sweat and blood soaking his skin, he ran his tongue along his bottom lip, eyes wild as he went to kick again. Peter heard sirens outside.</p><p>“Shit,” he muttered as he rushed forward grabbing Thorne’s arm hard, his boyfriend started to turn and jerk from him until he saw who it was who had grabbed him, saw the panicked look on Peter’s face then heard the sirens followed by a cop’s voice shouting over the crowd.</p><p>Peter pulled him through the crowd and towards the exit that led into an alleyway, his heart pounded in his chest as he shut the door behind them, he took hold of Thorne’s hand holding tightly as they ran through the alley until they reached Peter’s car in the parking lot. Three cop cars were parked in front of the bar, already the police were leading people out, too preoccupied with the rowdy drunks and junkies to notice the man who was part of the starting fight slipping into a car. Peter’s heart was still racing as he pulled out of the lot and sped down the street towards his building, he glanced over at Thorne who was grinning, fingers tapping a jittery beat against the dashboard, he turned on the radio blasting the volume, tapping faster. </p><p>“Hospital?” Peter asked.</p><p>“Nah, fine, you got pills and shit at your place.” </p><p>Not like Peter had wanted to spend his night in the hospital, but he would have if it had been necessary. He had slight concerns about him being hit with that bottle, but it truthfully wouldn’t be his first fight related head injury. When they parked outside of Peter’s building he got out of the car first, going round to the passenger side to help Thorne who was the slightest bit unsteady on his feet, from the blood loss and the cocaine consumed before the show. People lingering on the first floor of the building looked at them, disdainful stares and curious glances, a couple of girls smiled at them. Peter managed to guide him into the lift, thankful nobody else was in there. Thorne leaned back against the wall of the lift, touched his face seeming almost surprised when he saw the blood on his hand when he pulled it away from his face. He turned to look in the shining metal wall, squinting at his blurred reflection as if he could get a good look at how much damage had been done.</p><p>When they arrived at their floor Peter guided him to his flat, then back towards the bathroom where Thorne hopped up on the countertop kicking his feet back against the cabinets, the sound echoing in the massive room. He watched as Peter gathered peroxide, a cloth, and bandages. </p><p>“Manger is gonna be fucking pissed when he hears about this.” Thorne said at last as if the realization just struck him that his manager had distinctly asked him not to get into anymore physical altercations at concerts.</p><p>Peter smirked, he began rubbing the damp cloth along his forehead, apologizing when his boyfriend winced. He placed a hand against his jaw urging him to stay still as he did his best to wash the blood from his skin and some from his hair.</p><p>“I’ll cover for you, I’ll tell him that the guy attacked you, you were just defending yourself.” </p><p>“Not a total lie, can you believe that Nazi prick?”</p><p>“I was worried he was gonna fucking kill you.” Peter admitted, Thorne could mostly hold his own in fights, but he was short and skinny. Most of the guys he tended to get into fights with were muscle bound douche bags who towered over him.</p><p>Thorne took hold of his wrist gently pulling his hand away, leaned in kissing him, nipped against his bottom lip and Peter could taste blood and whiskey on him as he ran his tongue across his bleeding lip. He pulled back humming, eyes half-lidded. “Reminds me of the first time we kissed.” He whispered, kissed him again for longer this time before breaking away to resume his task of cleaning his injuries.</p><p>“Minus the cell, prefer this.” </p><p>Peter preferred this too, he preferred being in his spacious penthouse with Thorne here with him knowing that once he got him cleaned up, they could go drink and watch TV. He noticed Thorne stayed in Vegas more than he did L.A. or any other place, it was like he was trying to spend more time with him now. Peter was glad for it, he worried still he would grow bored and end things completely. It was hard not worrying about something like that when it came to Thorne, he was known for getting bored and fucking off when he wanted to find something new and exciting. Peter knew dating a singular person, seeing them all the time probably wasn’t exciting, he’d always hated it, but he liked the thought of it if it was with Thorne. He just doubted he felt the same about it.</p><p>“You’re gonna look worse in the morning.” He warned him as he put everything away.</p><p>Thorne jumped down from the counter, leant in closer to the large vanity mirror to look at himself, poked at the bump on his head and then prodded at his cut lip. “Swear probably got a cracked skull.” He complained backing away from the mirror.</p><p>“Would explain some things,” Peter teased, Thorne playfully slapped at him, he grabbed his wrist pulling him against him and kissing him. He rested a hand against the back of his head, fingers burying themselves in his hair as he backed him up against the counter. Thorne began tugging at his t-shirt pushing it up his body, tongue pressing into his mouth as they kissed.</p><p>“I love you,” Peter whispered, he kissed against his jaw before pulling away from him.</p><p>Thorne looked at him in a way that left him worried he might bolt, he swallowed then smiled, took hold of Peter’s hand and led him into the bedroom and to the bed. He said nothing more as they lay in bed together, he worried that he hadn’t been serious when he said it didn’t bother him when he told him he was in love with him. If that were true then he would have left, not taken him to bed where they spent the remainder of their night laying together watching Laguna Beach. Peter nuzzled against him, pressed kisses against his shoulder, Thorne stroked his fingers through his hair in response, kissed him softly like he very well might love him back. Such a silly thought.</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>